


We die so slowly (We think we live)

by Fortitude



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Not Beta Read, Season 5 AU, The Magicians Season 4 Ending Fix-It, and also, au from about 5x03, but also from 4x13 at the same time, but i keep my favourite parts, so sorry for how ooc this turned out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:35:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fortitude/pseuds/Fortitude
Summary: Quentin receives Eliots letter before going to the Seam, and thus has time to plan ahead
Relationships: Past Quentin Coldwater/Alice Quinn - Relationship, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	We die so slowly (We think we live)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on my theory for why Quentin and Eliot remember the mosaic, which I will explain in end notes so you can choose when or if you want to read it
> 
> Title from my favourite collection of poems in Norwegian, Og du dør så sakte at du tror du lever by Bertrand Besigye.

Alice and Eliot watch the envelope fluttering down the hole at the top of the Mountain of Ghosts, following its slow, spiraling descent with their eyes until it’s out of sight.

And so with that, the piece of Quentins soul is back where it belongs, sent down to the underworld alongside Eliot’s letter. It feels cathartic in a way, like they both have corrected a wrong they’ve done and regretted.

* * *

Quentin is on his way up the stairs in the Cottage when Alice rushes up to him.

«Hey, Q, can we talk for a sec?» she asks. «I’ve been thinking…»

Quentin interrupts her before she gets to say anything else, «Me too, I-I think you should tell me where this Seam is, so that I can do it.» He looked at her, squaring his shoulders, getting ready for her to fight him on it.

«Why you?» she retorts, disbelieving, looking at him.

He swallows thickly. «Because I - I’m better equipped to…» Alice folds her arms over her chest, taking a slight step back, looking up at him expectantly. She’d halfway expected this, of course he’d want to be the one to get rid of the Monster, it’d been him who’d spent the most time with it.

Quentin lowers his voice to an almost-whisper. «Because I want you to be safe.»

Alice retorts almost immediately, disbelieving. «I want _you_ to be safe.»

There’s a pause. It’s filled with frustrated huffs of breath and hand gestures, neither feeling eloquent enough to explain. Quentin sits down on the stairs, Alice sitting down next to him.

They both take a steadying breath.

«Are you saying that you…» Quentin starts, but Alice interrupts almost immediatly. «No, I’m saying that we’ve…» she takes a deep breath. «We’ve tried the whole saving each other thing, with… mixed results.»

Their eyes meet for a few seconds, before it’s too much and Quentin turns his head away.

«Yeah, I- Sure but-» He stammers, before Alice breaks in.

«And I- I’ve been thinking about what works best and I think, no, I know we’re best when we’re a team. Okay, when me and you, together.»

Quentin meets her eye again, searching her face for honesty and finding it. «If nothing else, I like the sound of it.» Alice swallows. «Because it’s true,» Quentin replies.

She draws in a shaky breath. «So it’s decided?» Both of them have small smiles on their faces.

«Okay people, let’s do this. We need to touch butts, make it quick. We’ve got a multiverse to save,» Margo says as she walks by, a smile on her face and axes thrown over her shoulders. She’s not looking at them, but it’s obvious she’s talking to them.

«How does she know our thing?» Alice jokes, and her entire face cracks into a huge grin. They are both giggling, leaning towards each other when they are interrupted by the metallic sound of a letterbox.

«Hey, did you know there was a letterbox in the Cottage door?» Quentin asks, looking at the nondescript envelope as it slid to a halt a few feet away from the door. Alice shook her head as she got up to pick up the letter.

«It’s for you,» she said, questioningly. «And this stamp, I think I’ve seen one of these before. You can send letters to anyone anywhere, anytime.»

Alice looks up from the envelope, at Quentin.

«It’s for you, before you go to the Seam.»

She hands the letter to him, sitting back down beside him as he tears open the envelope and begins to read the letter.

_Hey Q, it’s been a while, for both of us, in different and inexplicable ways._

_Did you know I had to go through my most traumatic and repressed memory to take over control that day in the park? No, of course you don’t. Why would you?_

_Charlton and I…_

«Hey Alice, do we know anyone named Charlton?» Quentin looks up form the letter.

«No, why? Is it important?» she asks, scrunching her eyebrows slightly and tilting her head to one side.

«No, probably not,» he mumbles, distracted, turning back to the letter.

… _we went on a quest. Took a real trip down memory lane, and let me tell you, it was quite the quest._

_You remember what I said to you that day in the park? To convince you I was really me? Of course you do, you’re you. You’ve probably been overthinking it ever since, knowing you._

You _are my most traumatic and repressed memory, Q. That day in the throne room, after our could-have-been, should-have-been quest at the mosaic. When I told you all those terrible things and turned you away. It is my worst memory, even worse than that time I discovered I had magic, and you know how horrific that was, how awful, how traumatic that was for me._

 _I’m so sorry, I was so scared, Q, and I’m still terrified now. Not of you, never, but of losing you. I’ve seen myself, now, who I am when you’re not around, and I don’t like it._ _Hopefully that might change soon._

_Everett will follow you into the Mirror World, trying to save the monster so he can use it to get God-level power. There’s no way of saying this nicely, but you died, Q. You died, and so did a piece of me_ _and so will probably my liver and quite a few braincells._ _Please be careful, please come back._

_Just know that sending this letter is_ _probably_ _definitely the bravest and most stupid thing I’ve ever done, and please know, my dearest Q, that I’m only braver now because of you. I told you so in my memories, but I would very much like to tell you so in person. It’s the least you deserve._

_Peaches, plums and much love,_

_Your Eliot_

Quentin lowers the letter into his lap, turning to face Alice again.

«It’s from…» Alice interrupts, scrunching her eyebrows. «Eliot, I know. I- I can remember…» She pauses, staring at him for a moment.

«Like how you remembered the mosaic, right?» She asked, turning away slightly. «Eliot told — will tell? — me. After you…» She trailed off, looking off to the side towards where the rest of the group were gathering, trying to hide some of the tears welling up in her eyes.

«After I die,» He finished, taking a deep, shaky breath.

Alice turned her head back towards Quentin, looking at him again. «It’s hazy, there’s these memories — kind of — of us doing this, we went to the Seam and we got interrupted.» Quentin put his hand on her knee, offering her some support.

«Everett was there, trying to stop us. So he could — he wanted the power for himself. Turning him into a- a god». His face scrunched up in disgust, and he looked beyond Alice towards the rest of the group.

«We should warn them, so we can plan. So- so maybe I don’t die»

And they do, not any big adjustment from the previous plan, they don’t have the time for that kind of planning, but hopefully just enough to save him.

**_**

As they stand in front of the door in the Mirror Realm, Alice half remembers hesitating, having a bad gut feeling about all of it. Somehow she knows, now, that if anything, this isn’t the part she should be hesitant about. So she feigns confidence as she opens the door, walking in. Penny follows suit, pacing even further in to the room as Alice stops just inside the door. Quentin lingers behind a little, but quickly follows Penny to the middle of the room.

«It’s the lab. Why?» Quentin looks around in wonder. Penny replies without bothering to turn around and look at him.

«Who cares?»

Penny walks up to the sheeted fixture in the other end of the room, Quentin close on his heels.

«Careful,» Penny says as they begin to pull the sheet off, revealing the mirror containing the Seam.

«That’s it,» Quentin says, straining his neck to look at it.

«It’s the Seam,» Alice says, shaky. She walks closer, slowly moving towards it and the others.

«Okay, let’s do this,» she says, looking towards Quentin. He gently tosses the bottle in his hands into the Seam, all of them watching in slight awe as it disappears into the darkness ahead.

Alice gently shakes her head, two sets of memories fighting in her mind. Some part of her just knows, this is the important bit.

Quentin stretches his hand out towards her without looking. «Okay, let me get it…».

He turns around, seeing Everett there. Suddenly it all feels real, in a way just reading about it in a letter hadn’t. Everett was here to distract him, trying make sure he doesn’t get rid of the Monster.

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. It’s now or never.

«Everett,» he says, watching as Everett picks up a knife from the table.

Everett has clearly begun to shatter, which is probably not a good sign.

«Quentin, that’s mine,» he says, with a slight nod towards the bottle in Quentins hands. «Hand it over, please.»

He raises his hand, getting ready to cast, Quentin reflexively doing the same.

«No! You can’t cast in here!» Alice cries out.

Everett looks stoic as he replies. «I know.»

Alice gasps, taking a step back.

«Mutually assured destruction.»

He stares Quentin down before lowering his hand, Quentin doing the same.

«Which is why you’ll give it to me.»

Quentin takes a quick breath, readying himself. Alice and Penny do the same, this is the bit that needs to be done differently. In Alices mind, memory-Everett breaks the mirror, closing their access to the Seam. Real life-Penny runs forward, tackling Everett to the ground. It’s not going to last, but it serves good as a distraction. They need to quickly figure out what to do with Everett, but it gives Quentin enough time to dispose of the other bottle, watching it drifting closer and closer to the darkness that is the Seam.

Everett and Penny are on the ground, wrestling. Penny has the leverage, the extra movement of not being pinned to the floor, as well as the element of surprise. He takes advantage of it, pulling Everett up by his suit jacket before knocking his head back down to the ground, leaving him unconscious.

Behind them, Alice and Quentin have been frantically brainstorming for something to use to break the mirror. Alice has vague memories of what memory-Everett had done, and they think they’ve managed to piece it together.

Quentin looks down at Everett, lying on the floor. «Uhm, should we…?» he starts, pointing at him.

Alice looks at Quentin, then at Penny. «Should we just…?» She gestures towards the mirror behind Quentin, where the Seam is still visible. Penny throws his hands up. «I don’t care, I just wanna get out of here before someone dies.»

Quentin looks at the floor, silently agreeing. He still doesn’t feel safe, like he still might die here in the Mirror Realm.

«It’s just, he’s dangerous, you know. I think he’s probably going to come after us if we just leave him like this.» Alice clasps her hands together. «It’s really for our own good, isn’t it?» It’s mostly to calm her own nerves, justifying it for herself.

Quentin sighs. «Yeah, probably.»

With the help of Penny, they tip the lifeless body of Everett into the mirror, turning away so they don’t have to watch him disappear into the Seam. They stand there for a little bit, catching their breath, calming down a little.

When they turn back towards the mirror, there’s a steady trickle of water pouring out of it, leaving a small puddle on the floor.

Alice looks at it in bewilderment, a half-memory of magic pouring back in to the world.

«I think that’s…» she says, pointing at the puddle. Quentin finishes her sentence. «The reservoir, right. Should we be, uh, should we maybe take some of that with us?»

They both start looking around for something to use, but Penny disrupts them by taking off his scarf, mopping up as much as it can hold.

«Great, break that mirror and lets get out of here,» Penny says, already on his way, running towards the door.

**_**

They’d wrung out Pennys scarf, pouring the water back in the reservoir. It hadn’t been much, most of it lost with Everett somewhere unreachable. The vast emptiness of the reservoir and Wellspring isn’t well-boding, the small puddles worth of magic not a guarantee that magic will ever fully return, but some minor spells work now. The hope is that it’ll grow, allowing magic to flow freely again.

Quentin has been sitting in a deck chair outside the Cottage, shooting off some small fireworks. It’s a sort of celebration, he thinks, a «hooray, we all survived». But if he’s being honest, it’s mostly a distraction. An attempt to cheer him up, only it hasn’t really worked out so far. There’s been too much these last few years, the last months in particular. Not to mention the last few days.

Alice had sat down in the chair to his right some time ago, but neither had had the energy it takes to begin a conversation.

When Quentin grew tired of the firework spell, he pulled out an old deck of cards from his pocket, fiddling with it, not really having a plan for what to do with it other than distract himself.

Alice sighed. «Q, isn’t it time we discuss this?»

He looked at her, putting the cards to rest in his lap before immediately picking it back up, nervously dragging his finger over one corner of the deck.

«I guess. Uhm, was there something in particular you wanted?» He asked, feigning ignorance of which conversation she obviously wanted to continue. It doesn’t work, he knows that. She knows him too well for that, knows his stalling tactics when he doesn’t particularly want to talk about somethin.

Alice straightened her back, pulling some of her hair behind her right ear.

«About…» she began, looking off in the distance. She drew in a breath, assuring herself. «About us, being a good team.» Quentin watched her, puppy dog eyes and all, silently begging her not to say it out loud.

«We did good today, and I just don’t think we should overcomplicate that.» She briefly met his eyes before turning away again, hands twisting in her lap.

«And I think, us — as a couple — have been getting in the way of how well we’ve worked together in the past.» She takes a shaky breath.

«And I don’t want to lose you, but I fear that — with these memories of how I was when you…» She trails off, not particularly happy about going there either.«I love you, but I don’t think that just loving you is enough, this time.» There are a few stray tears welling up in her eyes, and she rapidly tries blinking them away.

«It’s just - Vix, I…» Quentin stammers out, Alice giving him a sad half-smile at the old nickname.

«Q, I think that we… We’ve tried this now, and I don’t think we’re different enough to make it work this time. Or maybe we’re just too different now. And, besides…» She says, smiling sadly. «With him, you’ve already worked together for a life time, and I don’t think we can really have that, not together, not in that sense.»

Quentin looks away for a second before looking at her again. «Alice, he made it very clear that he didn’t want me. Why should that have changed now? And besides, I love you.»

Alice sighed, taking his hand in hers. «Theres lot’s from that other timeline that I don’t remember, but from what I remember? He was really broken up about you being gone. And at the top of that mountain, when we dropped in your letter? We finally really talked — that’s when he told me about the mosaic, how you both remembered pieces of a life together — and he also talked about rejecting you.» Alice waited, making sure Quentin was really paying attention to her.

«I really think he regretted that, and I think that maybe you should try having this conversation with him instead.»

She patted the top of his hand and got up, dusting off her skirt before walking back inside. Quentin stayed behind, needing some time to clear his head.

_

He’d been out there for quite some time more, staring at nothing, trying to not really think about anything for a while.

Eliot approached carefully, stopping and leaning on his cane a few feet away.

«Is this seat taken?»

Quentin turned to look at him, and sighing, he told him to sit down.

Eliot turned the chair so it was facing Quentin a little more head on, then sat down slowly, careful of his still fresh stitches.

Quentin had turned his head away again, but with an inhale he turned towards Eliot.

«No,» Eliot said, holding up a finger. «Please just let me talk.»

Quentin exhaled again, closing his eyes. Looking at Eliot felt too much right now, too real.

Eliot took in a deep breath, steadying himself.

«After the mosaic, I said a lot of awful things to you. I’m so, so sorry for hurting you, Q. At the time, I really thought I was doing the right thing, pushing you away.» Eliot swallowed thickly, lower lip trembling slightly.

«I projected a lot of my own fears and insecurities onto you, and that was so unfair of me, and you deserved so much better.» Theres a slight tremble to his voice now, and Quentin opened his eyes and looked at Eliot, but he turned his head the other way and blinked quickly.

«Fuck, I was - I was so wrong in doing that, and I know the things I said to you can’t be unsaid.» It was Quentins turn to turn his head and blink away tears.

«These last few months, I’ve had so, so much time to spend exploring my own faults, and god knows I have a few, and I can’t promise you that I’ll never get scared like that again. I can only promise you that in the times that I’m brave, that’s all because of you, Q, and…» he pauses, pinching his nose. «And I’ll always regret that I wasn’t brave that particular day.»

There’s a stunned silence between them, broken only by a few small sniffles Eliot tried his best to suppress.

«I was scared too, El, I sat there and bared my heart to you. And you still meant what you said that day, even if you don’t mean them now,» Quentin finally says, voice small, quiet, meant only for Eliot to hear.

«I talked to Alice and she, uhm, she seems to think that we’d — you and I — would be a better match now than Alice and I was.» Quentin fiddled nervously with his deck of cards, worrying one of the corners.

Eliots little sniffles grow into a slightly manic laugh before turning into one lonely, broken sob. Quentin puts his hand on Eliots shoulder, meaning for it to be comforting, a support, but Eliot puts his head in his hands and then his shoulders are shaking a little.

«I…» he says, before needing to pause for breath, willing away the remains of his hysterical laughter. «I just… Alice and I, we had that conversation too, when we were on the quest together. She… knew all along that you loved me too, it was just me - I was the one who got in the way of us, and…» he trails off, finally looking up and meeting Quentins eyes.

Eliot touches his pocket, feeling the comforting outline of a flask somewhere in his inner jacket pocket. He feels inadequate, second guessing himself. Heart racing a mile per minute, he's minutes, no, seconds, away from running again. He's horribly unprepared for serious, emotional talks, but, he supposes, there really isn't anything in the world that can prepare him for this kind of vulnerability. The closest he can get to anything like that, he pulls out his flask and take a long sip. Liquid courage, he tells himself. Drowning insecurities and fear, another, quite voice far back in his brain tells him.

«Are we really talking about Alice right now?» Eliots mood shifted, now his sad smile had been replaced by a more characteristic, joking smirk.

«I get it, fine, me and Alice have bonded now, blahblah, but the only connection I wanna talk about now is us,» he says, moving to the edge of his chair so he can reach Quentin, cupping his jaw, rubbing his thumb along his cheekbone.

It’s a drastic change of mood, and it almost gives Quentin a whiplash just thinking about it.

He squares his jaw, letting Eliot feel how his muscles tense under his touch. It’s too much, too fast and at the same time too little, too late. The touch is a contradiction, a loving gesture from someone who’d rejected him last time they’d talked properly.

Eliot leaned in and brushed his lips gently over Quentins before pulling back almost immediately.

«I hope you’ll think about it, and find it in you to forgive me my fear,» Eliot says, taking a steadying breath. «At least enough for us to be friends again, I have missed talking to you.»

Quentin gave a curt nod before getting up and going inside the Cottage again, leaving Eliot out there alone, already taking another sip from his flask. Something needs to make up for the current lack of warmth under his hand.

—

Inside Quentin found Julia, sitting in a windowsill looking out.

«How are you feeling?» he asked, surprising her. Julia hadn’t heard him approaching, but moved so there was room for him to sit next to her. Patting it, she made it clear she wanted him to take a seat.

«Tired.» she said, and she really looked it. They were probably all like that now, sleep isn’t a priority when there are friends and worlds in need of saving.

«And angry. I fucking lost magic again.» She snorted out a laugh. «Guess it’s not meant for me, huh?» He offered her a smile, and she returned it.

«I think I just need some time, figuring out how to be just-human-Julia again. And maybe quite some time to forgive Penny for thinking he had any right making that choice on my behalf.»

Julia put her hand on top of Quentins, resting between them. «And you, how are you holding up?»

Quentin sighed. «I think Alice broke up with me for good?» Julia squeezed his hand carefully. «Not sure what to think about that, especially since Eliot just kind of kissed me?» Julia cocked her head to the side and smiled.

«We sure don’t know how to live uncomplicated lives, huh?» She knocked her shoulder against his, and he smiled at her.

«No, where’s the fun in that? Saving the world comes at a price, and that price is apparently a steady home and uncomplicated relationships to other people,» he jokes. He’d missed this, getting to joke and just be friends, he’d missed Julia. It felt good, like maybe they were finally allowed to take a break, catch their breath. Maybe even let someone else do the world saving for once.

He draws in a breath and lets it out as a sigh. «I just don’t know what to do now.»

Julia leaned her head on Quentins shoulder.

«From what I can tell, there’s a boy sitting right out there, right now, that loves you.» Julia gestures towards where Eliot is sitting, right on the other side of the wall.

«You really think so?» Quentin sounds questioning, not really sure he believes it himself yet.

«He’s been crazy about you since first year, dummy. Remember the first time I met him, at that hedge safe house when you were looking for that book?» Quentin nodded, of course he remembered, even if it felt like a thousand lifetimes ago. It had been the first time he’d seen Julia for months, and they’d argued. Not something he’d easily forget.

«He could’ve brought literally anyone, but he wanted to spend time with you. As far as I know, that’s what he’s been doing every step of the way. You even slept with him once,» she said, as if it was obvious that that was any indication of wether he actually loved him or not.

Quentin fiddled with the hem of his shirt with his free hand, «Technically it’s been more than once, actually.» Julia raised an eyebrow at him, saying «really?».

Quentin coughed slightly, «it’s a, it’s a really long story, remind me to fill you in properly later, but we kind of lived an entire lifetime together. It was… beautiful. And we had a family.» Quentin smiled thinking back. There hadn’t been this much overthinking things back then. They’d loved each other, and then they got back and still loved each other. Things had just been more complicated once they were back among other people, and in a world that still desperately needed saving if they wanted another lifetime.

«See?» Julia said, Quentin proving her point for her. The smile on his face alone was enough for her to see that that was a story full of happy memories.

«With Eliot, you were friends first and foremost. With Alice, you were sort of strangers with a mutual goal first, then Mayakovsky did his thing, and Q…» She rubbed the pad of her thumb over his, a comforting gesture.

«I’m not saying that what you had with Alice wasn’t good or real, I’m just saying that maybe you weren’t the best at just being friends before you became boyfriend-girlfriend. Maybe this is a way for you to try that, and that might be good for both of you.» She says it carefully, not trying to scare him away, just a gentle reminder that being friends with Alice, just friends, might not necessarily be a bad thing.

In some deep-seated, logical part of his brain, Quentin agrees with that, but hearing it being said out loud still makes him want to be angry about it. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like something someone else is allowed to say about his relationship with Alice. And yet he knows Julia is right, they haven’t actually been good at being just friends. That had definitely been easier with Eliot, and, Quentin thought, maybe that was something he needed right now.

«And for the record, I know Eliot hasn’t always approved of me, and for good reasons, but I approve of him. You get me? That boy adores you, and I know that’s mutual.» She squeezed his hand again before dropping it, lifting her head off his shoulder to look at him.

Quentin looks at her for a moment before realizing she’s expecting him to answer. He nods, slightly, hesitantly.

«Good, now go get your boy!» Julia grins, and swats his backside with a throw pillow as he gets up to walk outside again. He turns to glare at her, but it softens into a smile when he sees her amused, wide grin. Her smile softens a bit in response, and she nods gently at the door, gesturing for him to get out.

—

Eliot’s still sitting in the deck chair when Quentin gets back there. He sits down in the same chair as before, not saying anything, or even looking at Eliot.

In return, Eliot watches Quentin closely, studying his every move and face. When Quentin’s seated in the chair, Eliot tilts his flask towards him, a silent peace offering. Quentin studies it for a moment, considering.

With a sigh, he accepts it, and takes a swig. Eliot gives a careful smile, almost shy now. There’s something precious about it, something so unlike the overconfident Eliot he was used to in the shyness of his glances towards Quentin, like he couldn’t take looking at him properly. Or, maybe, like he was scared Quentin couldn’t take being watched like that right now.Something a lot more similar to the soft Eliot from the mosaic, the Eliot he’d loved for a long time. The Eliot he’d had a family with, the one who’d loved him back.

Quentin takes another swig from the flask before handing it back, watching Eliot putting it to his lips and tilting it. He’s staring and he knows it, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? His face is baring a lot of his thought and feelings, he knows that, so why shouldn’t he be allowed this? There’s a tension building between them now, a conversation ripe for picking. A conversation that will, possibly, leave them both more emotionally bare than his face can be right now, watching with interest how Eliot’s Adam’s apple is bobbing slightly as he swallows, and his lips… His lips that have now draw up into an amused smirk, and forming words, directed at Quentin.

«Like what you see?» they ask, amusement evident in his voice. Quentin swallows, forces his eyes to meet Eliots. They too, are twinkling with amusement.

It’s not a conscious decision, Quentin is out of his chair before he’s even aware he’s moved, pouncing. Eliots lips are soft against his, tasting of strong liquor and home, of memories, filled to the brim with Fillory, peaches and plums, happiness. 

He pulls back, crouching awkwardly next to Eliots chair, trying to decide if it’s more awkward to stay there or go back to his own chair again.

«Uhm, sorry, I was just…» He starts, nervously worrying at the hem of his sweater.

«Yeah,» Eliot breathes out, before pulling him back in again. It’s an awkward angle, so Eliots hands tug at the front of Quentins shirt until he’s in his lap. There should be words first, maybe, but Eliot doesn’t think there’s a rush. Not when Quentins fists are rumpling his vest and shirt so delightfully, or making the most wonderful noises in the back of his throat when his hands slide into Quentins hair.

They stay like that for a while, before Quentin pulls back, breathing heavily.

«Should we maybe…» he says, leaning back a little, but still maintaining a strong grip on Eliots vest. «Maybe we should talk about this, before this goes any further.»

Eliot looks up at him, moving his hands from Quentins hair and down along his back to settle gently on his hips.

«Do you want it to?» he asks, softly. «Go further, I mean,» he clarifies, a hopeful smile on his face. Quentin desperately wants to kiss it off him, he shouldn’t get to look that smug at how thoroughly well-kissed Quentin is right now.

«I… Yeah, I…» He huffs out a frustrated breath. «Sorry, I’m not good at this,» he says, tilting his head up and looking at the sky above.

When he finally looks down to Eliot again, he seems more sure, more confident in what he’s going to say.

«Yes, El, I would very much like to try this, if you’re sure this is also something you want,» he says, making eye contact with Eliot. Eliots mouth quirks up to a half smile, before leaning up to peck Quentins lips.

«Yes, I do. I’m so sorry about how much of an ass I’ve been about it in the past, it wasn’t fair of me to assume that you’d rather be with someone else, especially right after literally telling me that you wanted to make an effort with me. That being said though, I can’t promise that I won’t get scared again, but —» he grins happily, eyes twinkling slightly, «—I hereby give you permission to kick my butt if I ever doubt you again.»

Quentin barks out a quick laugh before setting up a solemn expression on his face. «Then I accept my new role as your butt kicker, and—» he looks down at Eliot, questioningly, «—boyfriend?»

Eliot giggles, «Yes, you’re my butt-kicking boyfriend.» Quentin smiles, capturing Eliots lips in a kiss again.

Eliot pulls back and clears his throat. «It’s getting a bit cold out here, wanna move this somewhere else?» He quirks his eyebrow at Quentin, marveling in how his eyes darken at that. Quentin just nods slightly, still a little dazed. Eliot puts his hand under Quentins thighs, and standing up, he uses a mix of his own strength and telekinesis to carry Quentin.

«Oh god, why is this so hot?» Quentin exclaims, clinging on to his vest for dear life.

«Hm, I don’t know. Something we might need to explore later?» Eliot replies, before kissing his way along Quentins jaw to his neck, sucking slightly.

Next thing he knows, Quentin is being pushed gently against the wall next to the door to the Cottage. «Sorry, Q, need a free hand for the door,» Eliot says, not sounding the least sorry for it. It also doesn’t explain all the time he spends pinning Quentin to the wall before even putting his hand on the door handle, but Quentins not in a position to start complaining about his boyfriend pinning him against walls.

**Author's Note:**

> The theory goes like this: 
> 
> Both have to happen within the same timeline, so it doesn't create an alternate timeline like the time loops does. If Q and El goes to the mosaic, then Quentin gives the key to Jane. When Jane has had it, it's buried so Margo can dig it up. If Margo digs it up, they don't go to the mosaic. Then Jane doesn't get the key, so it can't be buried. And then back to the beginning we go, so one outcome is dependent on the other happening/not happening. Thus, it creates a paradox where they both have to happen, so they remember it both ways (and they probably only remember pieces of it because its an entire lifetime and people don't usually remember an entire lifetime). 
> 
> And in this fic, it's shown by Eliots letter to Q. If he sends it, Q don't die. But if he doesn't die, Eliot never writes the letter. So Q never gets it, and he dies in the Seam. You see? And Alice was sort of also a part of sending the letter, so she remembers it too. (And I also really wanted them both to vaguely remember bonding, because they all deserve it)
> 
> This is simultaneously a fic I thought would turn out longer and the longest fic I've written in almost a decade  
> (but i have loads of ideas for how this way of doing the Seam scene also solves some of the other problems of season 5, so in the future i might expand this to like a series maybe?)
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://the-fandom-life-rocks.tumblr.com) crying about The Magicians (but mostly other things)


End file.
